A feeling of old has returned suddenly,
one that often meant, in the past
the birth of a poem.
These waters rise, like now,
but out of tune with the moon.
These waters simmer too and spill over
on pages, bare like skin.
Words hang around, some consistent with my ill's,
some not so,
and some desert me, like now, as I was almost on the verge
of poetry.
I have recognized this moment of unease and it's
unhappy jazz many times,
and many times too, like now, I have sung harsh odes.
I have lost the fizz of this water, right now
I feel my date with words went suddenly wrong.
"Words hang around, some consistent with my ill's,
ReplyDeletesome not so,"
I like these lines, especially that 'some not so'. This on the verge being....sometimes it also turns out right and then it all goes by itself, that's great when that happens.
Sometimes it is so difficult to express what one feels......all the nights are not even to counter this darkness.....but we must try....
ReplyDeleteyes you are right, we must try. and sometimes we gain something.
ReplyDelete"I feel my date with words went suddenly wrong."
ReplyDeletelovely! and one wonders how things would turn out if "your date with words" was consummated by a night of passion? :)